Carbon Copy Cowboy (Texas Twins Book 3)

by Arlene James

  “Tell Ozzie to go outside.” Sam clenched his jaws so tightly they hurt. He could just imagine why the little girl was so scared of the dog.

  “What? You think he can open a door by himself?”

  “I know you have a doggie door.”

  Dubois grumbled but gave the command. After the pit bull left, Sam moved toward where the beast had stood and shut the door.

  “It’s safe now, Emma. Go out on the porch.”

  Still she stayed rooted to the floor.

  “I’m an FBI agent. It’s like a police officer. You’ll be all right. No one’s going to hurt you.”

  Emma swung her gaze to the front entrance then back to her father.

  Sam hadn’t wanted to bring Jocelyn into this, but he had no choice if he wanted to get Emma away from Dubois. The child didn’t know him and was too afraid to do anything against her father’s wishes.

  “Please come get Emma,” Sam called out, hoping Jocelyn understood he was referring to her.

  Bracing himself, Sam prepared for a violent reaction from the man when he saw Jocelyn. Seconds later, although he couldn’t see her, Jocelyn must have appeared in the entrance because Dubois stiffened.

  “Don’t do something you’ll regret, Mr. Dubois.”

  Emma spied her therapist and raced toward Jocelyn. In that instant Dubois withdrew a switchblade, and lunged toward Sam. Sam squeezed the trigger, but the sudden sound of the little girl’s scream threw his aim off slightly. He grazed the man’s shoulder, the knife clanging to the floor.

  But Dubois kept coming.

  Chapter Seven

  Emma’s scream sliced the air and the blast from Sam’s gun echoed through the room.

  Jocelyn’s attention was riveted on Sam. Dubois, blood oozing from a hole in his shoulder, tackled Sam to the floor, knocking the gun from his grasp. Her heart lurched at the sight of the huge man pinning Sam down, both trying to scramble toward either weapon, lying near each other.

  She had to get Emma outside, to safety. Then she’d come back and try to help Sam.

  “Daddy,” the child wailed, starting toward the scuffling pair.

  Jocelyn whisked the little girl into her arms and hurried out onto the porch. Setting her down, Jocelyn said, “Your daddy will be all right, but I need you to do something for me. Can you, Emma?”

  With tears glistening her eyes, the child nodded.

  “Go sit in that car, lock the door.” She gestured toward Sam’s sedan. “And wait for the police to arrive. I called them a few minutes ago. Don’t go anywhere else.”

  Again she gave Jocelyn a nod.

  As soon as Emma started down the steps, Jocelyn whirled around and raced back into the house. Heart pounding, she scanned the room for some kind of weapon to use against Dubois. The man was so enraged that although he’d lost quite a bit of blood, he still fought Sam. They were inches away from the gun. For a second she contemplated grabbing the revolver, but she’d never handled one and didn’t want to end up shooting Sam instead of Dubois.

  Just as Jocelyn spied a bat in the corner, Sam managed to roll Dubois away from the weapon. She hefted the bat into her hand as Dubois grabbed his switchblade. Jocelyn swung at the arm that held the knife, hitting it. She struck the weapon from Dubois’s grip at the same time Sam hammered his fist into the man’s face—one, two times. The third strike made the man go limp, his eyes closing.

  Covered in blood, Sam struggled to his feet, pulled out his handcuffs and locked them around Dubois’s wrists. Then he sank to the floor next to his prisoner, dragging air into his lungs as sirens pierced the air.

  * * *

  Later that evening, Jocelyn collapsed on her couch and patted the cushion. “This feels so good. To be home. Especially with the man who was after me in jail now.”

  “I’m glad that you’re home, too. A case I’ve been working on has developed a new lead. I’ll be busy with it for the next several days.” Sam ambled to the sofa and sat next to her.

  “So no more babysitting?”

  “Not that I didn’t enjoy spending time with you. Just not under those circumstances.” Leaning back, he slid his arm along the back of the couch.

  “That’s the way I felt.”

  When she relaxed against Sam, he cocooned her in his embrace. The sensation of belonging infused her. She could stay in his arms for a long time, but that wasn’t wise. He was a loner, a man who kept his emotions to himself. She needed more in a relationship.

  “Jocelyn, it doesn’t have to end.”

  She chuckled. “What? Running for my life?”

  He tilted her face up so his gleaming gaze took in her features. “I would like to see you. In fact, I’m asking you out on an official date next Saturday night. What do you say?”

  She sat up and stared straight ahead. “No. I don’t think it’s a good idea if we see each other outside of work.”

  Turning her toward him so she had to look at his puzzled expression, he asked, “Why? I know you’ve felt what I felt. I want to see where this will lead.”

  To heartache. “I’m already immersed in the dark side of life through my work. Your job is even worse than mine. I know how much your work is a part of you. I can’t deal with it in my private life, too.”

  He cradled her head and leaned closer, feathering his lips across hers. “Can you deny the bond between us?”

  “No, but—”

  He placed his finger against her mouth. “Shh. I know the type of patients you see. They’re hurting and you help make them better. That’s a God-given talent. Trust the Lord. Let Him fully into your life and turn your problems over to Him.”

  “Is that how you survive your job?”

  He nodded. “It’s the only way.”

  “I don’t know if—”

  “Jocelyn, I promise to keep our personal life completely separate from our professional ones.” He cocked a grin and arched one eyebrow. “After all, how can you turn down the man who saved your life?”

  Smiling, she wound her arms around him and pulled him close. “I can’t.”

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt of The Promise of Home by Kathryn Springer!

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  Chapter One

  “Please follow the highlighted route—”

  Jenna Gardner tapped the tiny screen on the GPS and silenced the voice of her invisible navigator once and for all. Not only because the high-tech gadget seemed to be as confused as she was by the tangled skein of roads winding around Mirror Lake, but because Jenna was tempted to take its advice.

  She wanted to follow the highlighted route right back to her condo in the Twin Cities.

  “You passed it, Aunt Jenna!”

  A panicked cry reminded h
er that going home wasn’t an option. Not for awhile, anyway.

  Jenna glanced in the rearview mirror. Once again, she experienced a jolt at the sight of the two children in the backseat.

  Silver blond hair. Delicate features. Wide blue eyes.

  Jenna had met Logan and Tori for the first time only three days ago. The children were practically strangers.

  Strangers who were the mirror image of her younger sister, Shelly, as a child.

  For a split second, Tori met Jenna’s gaze. Then she buried her face in the tattered scrap of pink flannel that doubled as a blanket.

  Jenna pressed her lips together to prevent a sigh from escaping.

  One step forward, two steps back, she reminded herself. The five-year-old girl was adjusting to the idea of having an aunt the same way Jenna was getting used to the idea of having a niece and nephew.

  “You have to turn around,” Logan insisted.

  “Are you sure?” Jenna tipped her Ray-Bans down and tried to peer through the hedge of wild sumac that bordered the road. “I don’t see anything.”

  “Uh-huh. It’s back there.” Logan, the self-appointed spokesman for the two siblings, nodded vigorously.

  Under the circumstances, Jenna was willing to give the boy the benefit of the doubt. She put the car in reverse and began to inch backwards.

  In Minneapolis, a dozen horns would have instantly chastised her for the move. But here in the north woods of Wisconsin, the only complaint Jenna heard came from a squirrel perched on a branch near the side of the road. More than likely voicing its opinion on her presence rather than her driving skills.

  She spotted a wide dirt path that could have been—if a person possessed a vivid imagination—a driveway.

  Pulling in a deep breath, Jenna gave the steering wheel a comforting pat as she turned off the road. Her back teeth rattled in time with the suspension as the vehicle bumped its way through the potholes.

  Logan leaned forward and pointed to something up ahead. “There it is.”

  Well, that explained why Jenna had driven right past it.

  She’d been looking for a house.

  The weathered structure crouched in the shadow of a stately white pine looked more like a shed. Jenna’s gaze shifted from the rusty skeleton of an old lawn mower to the faded sheets tacked up in the windows.

  Oh, Shelly.

  Why hadn’t her younger sister admitted that she needed help? Why hadn’t she accepted Jenna’s offer to move in with her after Logan was born?

  Throughout her pregnancy, Shelly had claimed that she and her musician boyfriend, Vance, planned to marry before the baby arrived. But when Jenna had visited her eighteen-year-old sister in the maternity wing of a Madison hospital, there hadn’t been a ring on Shelly’s finger. Not only that, she’d been alone. Faced with a choice, Vance had decided that a gig at a club in Dubuque was more important than being present for the birth of his child.

  Shelly had made excuses for him—the same way their mother had made excuses for their father every time he’d walked out the door.

  While Jenna was pleading with Shelly to return to Minneapolis with her, Vance had sauntered into the room. The guy might have been a mediocre guitar player, but his acting skills were nothing short of amazing. He’d apologized to Shelly for not being there and promised that she and the baby could travel with the band as their “good luck charms.”

  When Jenna had asked her sister if she was willing to sentence her child to the nomadic lifestyle they’d experienced while growing up, Vance had turned on her. Accused her of being a troublemaker. He’d convinced Shelly that Jenna was jealous of their relationship and didn’t want them to be happy.

  The stars in Shelly’s eyes had blinded her to the truth. She had embraced Vance—and turned her back on her only sister.

  Jenna hadn’t seen or heard from her again. Had no idea where Shelly was or even how she and Logan were doing.

  Until last week.

  She’d been sitting at her desk, sipping an iced vanilla latte and working on her next column for Twin City Trends, when she received a telephone call from a social worker named Grace Eversea.

  It didn’t matter how gently the young woman had tried to break the news, each piece of information had punctured a hole in Jenna’s heart.

  A house fire. Shelly in a rehab center for prescription drug abuse. Seven-year-old Logan and Tori, the niece Jenna hadn’t even known existed, in temporary foster care.

  As the children’s closest relative, Jenna had been asked if she would be willing to help. She could think of a dozen reasons why she shouldn’t get involved and only two—very small—reasons why she should.

  Forty-eight hours later, after being granted a temporary leave of absence from the magazine, Jenna had packed her bags and driven to Mirror Lake, a small town where people knew each other’s name and each other’s business.

  The kind of place she had deliberately avoided for the past ten years.

  Her plan had been to take her niece and nephew back to Minnesota. But when Jenna met with Grace Eversea, the social worker had explained it would be in Logan and Tori’s best interest to remain in familiar surroundings for the time being.

  Jenna could see the wisdom in Grace’s suggestion—especially after learning that Tori and Logan had run away when they’d heard that she was on her way to Mirror Lake to meet them.

  Jenna and the children had already spent several days at the Mirror Lake Lodge at the invitation of Abby and Quinn O’Halloran, the couple who owned the charming bed-and-breakfast, but she didn’t want to impose on the newlyweds’ hospitality any longer than necessary.

  Until Shelly returned, Jenna decided that her only option was to move into the cabin where the family had been living before the fire. She’d been assured there had been only minimal damage to the interior and the local fire chief had pronounced the structure safe and sound.

  But now, looking at the place her niece and nephew had called home, Jenna wasn’t sure she agreed with either description.

  “Are we getting out, Aunt Jenna?” Logan ventured.

  Jenna realized she hadn’t moved.

  “Of course we are.” Forcing a smile, she slid out of the driver’s seat and went around to open Tori’s door. “You’re first, Button.”

  A corner of the blanket dropped, unveiling a pair of periwinkle eyes that stared back at her with guarded apprehension.

  Jenna recognized the look of someone who no longer trusted easily, and her heart wrenched. Within the space of a few weeks the little girl had been separated from her mother and then from Kate Nichols, the foster care mother she’d become attached to, before being placed in Jenna’s care.

  “It’s okay, Tori.” Logan patted his sister’s hand and the sweetness of the gesture pierced Jenna’s soul.

  How many times had she comforted Shelly when they were growing up? Protected her from danger—both imaginary and real?

  Jenna mentally pushed the thought away. Her life was different now. She was different now.

  She reached for the buckle on the booster seat but Tori shrank back.

  “Don’t wanna get out!”

  Jenna hesitated, wondering if the little girl was remembering the night of the fire. Once again, the reality of what she’d agreed to flooded through her, eroding her confidence. She wasn’t a child psychologist. She wasn’t even the type of person that small children flocked to.

  When it came right down to it, Jenna knew she was everything that two traumatized children didn’t need.

  But right now, she was all they had.

  “What’s the matter, sweetheart?” Jenna summoned the bright, confident smile that had taken her from proofreader to Twin City Trend’s most popular columnist.

  Tori leaned over and w
hispered something in her brother’s ear.

  “She’s afraid of wolves.” To his credit, Logan didn’t laugh.

  Jenna bent down and looked her niece in the eye. “You don’t have to worry about wolves, sweetheart. They stay away from people.”

  Tori’s gaze fixed on something over Jenna’s shoulder. “Even that one?”

  That one?

  Jenna whirled around and felt her knees buckle.

  An enormous animal, its shaggy coat a mottled patchwork of grays and browns, was slinking down the shoreline.

  Keep going, keep going.

  Almost as if it had heard Jenna’s silent plea, the creature paused for a moment and lifted its nose to the wind.

  The wedge-shaped head swung in their direction.

  Jenna’s breath gathered in her lungs as the animal changed direction and started to lope toward them.

  * * *

  Devlin McGuire had just finished unloading the last of the gear from his SUV when he heard a muffled shriek near the lake.

  Definitely human. Unmistakably feminine.

  Mirror Lake, both the town and the small body of water it had been named after, didn’t attract many tourists in the summer but Dev had noticed lights in the windows of the vacant cabin next door the last time he’d been home.

  He had hoped his new neighbors would have moved on by the time he returned, but apparently they were sticking around a little longer. Soaking up some sun and enjoying the peace and quiet of the lake.

  Something Dev would have appreciated himself right about now.

  Shouldering his canvas backpack, he took a step toward the cabin. Less than ten yards away, a shower with hot water waited. And a porterhouse steak in the freezer…

  Another shriek. This one sent a flock of crows swirling into the air like smoke from a black powder rifle—and carried a distinct edge of panic.

  Dev decided the porterhouse could wait a few more minutes.

  Making his way through the narrow strip of woods that separated the two cabins, he caught a glimpse of a vehicle parked in the driveway. As he stepped into the clearing for a better look, he stopped short at the sight that greeted him.